


coming of age

by woahpip



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Bernadetta centric, Canon Typical Violence, Character Study, F/M, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), no beta we die like Glenn, what's a little patricide amongst lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:14:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24438022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woahpip/pseuds/woahpip
Summary: Bernadetta thought herself weak, but she was also a daughter done wrong. A child who wanted nothing more than her father’s love. Even now, sometimes in the deep, dark of night, she has nightmares: if she was perfect, would that have changed anything? Could she have been the dutiful daughter, without the hitting or the choking or the captivity?*Bernadetta makes a decision.
Relationships: Bernadetta von Varley/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 10
Kudos: 30





	coming of age

**Author's Note:**

> title from coming of age by maddie medley. this song is very bernadetta for me
> 
> _i am coming of age, in the quietest ways_

She was scared someone could read her thoughts, but it didn’t stop her from thinking.

She believed in the war, as much as she hated it. Believed in Edelgard’s vision for the world. Violence was sometimes necessary, against your family especially. This was more important than titles, than secret laws upheld by dirty bastards. Forced upon their sons and daughters.

Edelgard slayed her demons. It was supposed to be a secret, but deep down she knew Hubert had been the one to slay his too.

Bernadetta thought herself weak, but she was also a daughter done wrong. A child who wanted nothing more than her father’s love. Even now, sometimes in the deep, dark of night, she has nightmares: if she was perfect, would that have changed anything? Could she have been the dutiful daughter, without the hitting or the choking or the captivity?

No, she reminded herself when she woke up. She will never be perfect. She mourns for the girl who used to be afraid of nothing; she tries to stop wishing she’ll become her again. That time has passed.

She had her moments though. “True fearlessness on display,” Hubert would quip. If they were in private, he’d touch her cheek, rub his glove covered thumb across her cheekbone.

_Tell him_ she thought. _You know he’d understand._

_But I don’t want him to do it for me._

_*_

Planning patricide was easier than Bernadetta thought it would be. Her father, still technically on house arrest, had been asked by the Empress to come plea his case at Garreg Mach.

No one really knew the details of what her father did to her, but it felt like everyone could _feel_ it..

Dorothea broke the news of his visit, sharing an elaborately embroidery handkerchief. Bernadetta stared at the thread and counted backwards from 100, trying to calm herself down. Everything turned in her head: well thought plans with drinks full of poison and a chance to say her piece; a chance meeting on the battlefield, nothing between them but the whistle of her arrow and the thunk of it piercing flesh; her strangling him in his sleep, eyes popping wide to see her one last time, in all her unmarriagable glory.

“You don’t have to come, Bernie. You don’t have to watch.” Dorothea hugged her, petting her hair in the way that always calmed her down.

“I guess I won’t! I don’t know if I could stand it…”

Later that evening, she sharpens her arrows on the porch outside her bedroom. The moon is a high crescent, glinting off the metal tips. The sharpening stone hurts her hands but she doesn’t pull on her gloves. She wants to feel the pain.

“We currently aren’t planning any battles for the strike force.”

She jumped, as she always did when Hubert came around, but she wasn’t scared. He stood at the stairs and stared at her moment, eyes soft and cheekbones striking. Her flower was there, snug in the hollow of his throat. It was distracting. It made her ache.

“You look beautiful in the moonlight Bernadetta.”

She breathes, one two three breaths. Blush pink spreads over her cheeks and he gives a shallow grin.

“So do you,” she said. He wouldn’t believe her but it didn’t matter. If she survived this, she’d make him see it. From her angle, the crescent was above him like a circular half-frame; one day she’d paint this moment in a portrait and show him all the beauty she noticed when he was around.

“Why are you sharpening your good arrows?”

There was no back up plan for if any one figured out. Old thoughts flooded Bernadetta’s mind: _he will execute you if he finds out._

_Hubert’s not a hypocrite_ , she barked back.

“A-always need to be ready!”

He raised an eyebrow but stayed silent. After a few moments he settled himself beside her, long legs splayed out. Closer up, she noticed his dark circles, worry lines starting to etch themselves prematurely in his face. His clothes were military as normal, but slightly wrinkled like the day had been long and full of moving around.

“Are you worried something bad will happen tomorrow?”

She grinds the final arrow against the stone, sparks glinting where they meet. She’s patient, methodical. The point needs to go through the skin and sinew and protective cells, needs to hit the meat. Needs to tear organs. On the battlefield she tried not to think about the damage she did, for hurting her enemies hurt her. She’d send this arrow with every cell buzzing. She wanted to know.

“Maybe,” is all she tells him, all the warning she gives.

*

No one said a word when she busts into the cathedral, long repurposed for war. They are surprised. Petra and Dorothea immediately move closer to her, like they sense something is wrong. On the dais stood Edelgard, with Hubert right below her. Edelgard’s face is pinched like she’s confused. Hubert gives nothing way except the tilt of his head.

There are none of her father’s men around, and no extra Adrestian soldiers. Just her housemates and Count von Varley.

Even in chains he eyes her like he’s better. He will always believe she is below him, her mother too.

_Not enough not enough not enough not enough!!_ her brain reminds her and it’s fuel.

You can’t hid a bow and arrow and she doesn’t try. The boys tittered, voices quiet for once. 

“Look at her face,” from Caspar. 

“This, ah, isn’t a joke,” mid-yawn from Lindhardt.

The other girls are ever silent and steady behind her. She can feel Hubert stare at her quiver, the arrows she sharpened. He moved forward just a step.

She hoped he saw the matching peony, over her heart.

Her father noticed nothing until she nocks an arrow.

“Hmph, you think you can kill me? You?! Me and everyone here know you’re capable of nothing.

She let an arrow fly. It landed right at his feet.

“See!” he continued. “She can’t hit anything.”

A million thoughts flew through her mind, words she had planned. Nothing comes up. All she can think is _save yourself Bernie. I know you can._

Another arrow flew. It feels right but it doesn’t feel good. There were supposed to be more but decides it’s time. No one moves. They let the blood spill onto the floor. They say nothing, until Herbert tilted his head again and moved toward her.

“I’ll clean this up.”

“No.” He doesn’t seem surprised she contradicted him. He knows her well; better than she thought.

“I’ll help you. We’ll do it together.”

Everyone else moves around her. Petra hugs her and Dorothea hangs onto her shirt. Edelgard gives her a nod and that’s enough. Ferdinand, quiet the whole time, still doesn’t say a word and instead grips her shoulder tight for just a moment.

Hubert comes close only when the others are gone. He touches her face and she leans into it. It reminds her she’s here, alive. Her shoes are wet but she tries not to think about it.

_Time to clean up my own mess_.

“Ready?” Hubert asked, voice low.

“Ready,” she said. Then they started to lift.

**Author's Note:**

> this was a brainworm that wouldn't let go! if i was more talented id write an 100000+ word slow burn between these two involving this idea...maybe one day!
> 
> (im woahpip on tumblr!)


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